Dead Wrong by Johnson Janice Kay

Author:Johnson, Janice Kay [Johnson, Janice Kay]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Suspense
ISBN: 9781426886805
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2010-12-27T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

PERHAPS SHE DESERVED for Will to turn on her. Who was she to judge? She'd never lost anyone she loved deeply, and in such a dreadful way. Maybe you would be angry, at everyone and everything. Maybe that was natural.

She hoped not.

Eyes dark, mouth still bitter, he said, "So I'm a bastard after all."

"I shouldn't have said that."

He shrugged carelessly. "I asked. And do you want to know the truth? I feel like scum. You can't tell me anything I don't know."

None of her business, but…"Have you told your mother how you feel?"

"God, no!" He gave a harsh laugh. "It's a hell of a lot easier to ask for forgiveness after you've bestowed it. Now I find myself the only one in the wrong. Not the same thing at all."

"No," Trina agreed. "Now apologizing requires real humility."

This laugh was more amused. The skin beside his eyes crinkled. "You're right. Unfortunately, humility appears to be a virtue I'm lacking." The amusement vanished. "I'm…working myself up to it. God knows they deserve their pound of flesh."

"Do you think that's what they want?"

She sounded so priggish. And who was she to lecture? She, who despised her father and enabled her sister's alcoholism because the mere idea of cutting her off, too, left a gigantic chasm inside her. Face it, she knew next to nothing about how normal, loving families worked.

"I don't know what they want anymore." Will picked up the wine bottle, then set it back down. "I haven't gotten drunk since the night Gilly died. And here I am, thinking about it."

"From what your mother said, the fact that you were drunk saved you from being a suspect in your girlfriend's murder."

"My being drunk?" He seemed startled.

"You, ah, snored."

He blinked. "That bad?"

"So rumor has it."

"Jeez." He laughed without humor. "Okay. One more reason not to get plastered."

"You don't like feeling out of control?"

"Or like shit in the morning." Naked emotion flared in his eyes. "But most of all, I didn't like knowing that I couldn't have helped Gilly. If she'd somehow gotten away and called, I wouldn't have even heard the phone. I was too drunk, too busy wallowing in self-pity." He shrugged. "I suppose in the end, you're right. I just don't like feeling out of control."

"You're ashamed that you were getting drunk while she was being raped and murdered." His face stiffened; Trina hurried on. "If you can admit that to me, why can't you say 'I'm sorry' to your mother?" Then she realized. "No, silly question. It's not the same, not when you don't really care what I think about you. What was this, a trial run?"

"You're easy to talk to. You know enough to understand the issues, but you're not emotionally invested." He shook his head. "My apologies."

"No, it's okay," she began awkwardly, but he'd already risen to his feet and was gathering dirty dishes.

"Let me help…"

"No, have some coffee." His tone was cool, pleasant. That of a stranger. "This will only take me a minute."

He brought her a cup of coffee and she presumed was gulping some himself to counteract the wine.

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